


Lay Me Down

by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:37:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miztrezboo/pseuds/badjujuboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam rolled over, eyes squinting in the harsh light. “Hey, hey. Harry, shut off the light, yeah?” </p><p>Harry nodded and turned it off before shaking his head and turning it on again, much to Liam’s grouchy whine. “No, wait. Liam, why are you naked in my bed?” </p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [northernboyslovegravy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernboyslovegravy/gifts).



> for **northern-boys-love-gravy** on tumblr for the prompt - 'why are you naked in my bed?'
> 
> thanks ever so to **dramaturgicallycorrect** for the beta job. and the making me write again ass kickings. and awesome email conversations xx

Harry was tired. 

Not even tired, really. More like bloody absolutely positively _bone crushingly_ exhausted.   His flight home ended a month long trip down under celebrating Niall’s upcoming nuptials, the nuptials and a week long party after. He’d flown from Melbourne, Australia to London, with three separate stops along the way. Basically, a day of travel and then some. Which would have been hell on its own, but he’d also let Niall talk him into drinking until four that morning.  

The plane taxied out at nine am.

  Niall was going to get an _earful_ once Harry could shake the fuzzy head he had right now with a good, straight, twelve hours of sleep. He’d be happy with eight to be honest.  

Harry’d never been more delighted to have a car service at the airport before. He’d tried to stay awake when he first got in, being polite and discussing the weather (awful) and football (we were _robbed!_ ). He must of spaced out a little too much or yawned too often because Tom'd told him to get a little shut eye, and he’d wake him when they were home. Harry took his advice and fallen promptly to sleep in the back, only waking when Tom'd gently shook his shoulder when they’d stopped.  

He’d left his bags by the front door, made sure it was locked and then headed up the stairs. He had taken a second to pause at the doorway leading into the living room. He’d not seen that sofa of his for a while now and it was good in a pinch for a nap but. . . no. Harry’d been dreaming of his bed. Dreaming of his big pillows that he could smash into just the right shape for his head and neck. That spot in the middle that fit his back just right so he wouldn’t wake up aching in the morning. His blankets – his duvet, oh his _duvet_ \- that was perfect for snuggling under.   

Harry’s steps quickened as he made his way up the stairs to his room. Thankfully, with the weather as shitty as it was, the house was dark, rain falling steadily on the roof and windows. Harry was sure he’d fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow. Thunder rolled outside as Harry kicked off his shoes, slid out of his jeans and pulled his shirt up and over his head and shoulders. His skin prickled with the cool air, but it was two steps to his bed and a quick lift of the blankets and he was surrounded by crisp sheets, soft pillows and a warm body.  

No.  

No, that wasn’t right.  

He reached out a hand to his left and yes, there was definitely someone lying next to him. Harry slowly slipped out of bed, holding his duvet close to his body as he edged back toward the door, far more awake than he had been before. His heart started to race thinking about how fast he could possibly run down the stairs and extract his phone from. . . shit, it didn’t even have battery! It’d died before he’d left Dubai and he’d only had his iPod for music to listen to.   He flicked the light switch on quick, ready to scream or yell something.  

“Liam?” is what came out instead.  

Liam rolled over, eyes squinting in the harsh light. “Hey, hey. Harry, shut off the light, yeah?”  

Harry nodded and turned it off before shaking his head and turning it on again, much to Liam’s grouchy whine. “No, wait. Liam, why are you naked in my bed?”  

Liam opened one eye staring up at Harry as his hand travelled down his torso, skipping over his stomach and down over the thick meat of his thigh and oh. Totally naked. Harry’d not actually noticed until Liam’s fingertips brushed the soft line of his cock, bare and lying just to the left of centre.  

Christ. Harry’d given up on seeing Liam like this again.   They’d had a thing when they were both Freshers at uni but it had faded out after the first year, content with a close friendship as Harry discovered he wasn’t ready for a proper relationship and Liam decided he was. Liam had dated two girls for the rest of their time at Manchester and Harry’d flitted around being happy with whoever made him happy for however long that seemed to be. They’d stayed in touch as Harry’d taken photos of this and that and ended up freelancing for a variety of travel magazines and once for National Geographic. Liam’d moved to Surrey with Sophia three years earlier, having opened a successful teen help centre with Louis, who Harry’d introduced him to in their last year of uni.   

So seeing Liam in bed and as naked as he is was a trifle. . . odd.  

“Oh, yeah I, um. I thought you were coming back on Friday?” Liam says with pink cheeks, reaching behind him for a pillow to cover himself up a bit.  

Harry blinked, he was sure that it was Friday. It was Thursday when he left so didn’t he land on Friday here or was it still Thursday? Harry’d never been good with time zones.  

“Yes? Maybe? I don’t. . . look, why does that matter anyway? Why’re you here, and you know. Not clothed?” Harry asked, rubbing at his eyes with one hand as his duvet fell down to his hips. Harry remembering fast he hadn’t a stitch of clothing on either.  

“Well,” Liam started, a flush working its way down his neck making his birthmark stand out. “It’s just I needed somewhere to stay and I knew you weren’t home and I still have that key you gave me to check on the place and,” he stops, letting out this long sigh.   

“Oh, I forgot you had that,” Harry says through a yawn. He’s getting tired again and Liam’s still there. In his bed. Naked.  

“Never used it before. Never had to I suppose,” Liam answers, sounding sad and a little bit broken.   “Are you okay, Li?” Harry shuffles forward. He hasn’t heard that tone in Liam’s voice for a long time. Not since he and Sophia hit a rough patch when they’d been renovating the house, or the time before that when he’d been on again and off again with Danielle, or before that when he and Harry’d broken up.

  But Liam and Sophia are solid, though. Harry’s sure of that. They’re right up there with Niall and Melisa, Ben and Meredith, James and Julia, Taylor and Ed. They’re _Liam and Sophia_ for christ’s sake.   

Liam looks up at the roof and Harry can see a shine to his eyes. “Sophia and I broke up.”  

“Oh, Liam,” Harry whispers, stepping closer still until he can sit at the bottom of the bed, wrap his hand over Liam’s ankle. “It’s just a fight, yeah? It’ll blow over. You’ll apologise or whatever and it’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Liam says with a shake of his head. “No, I signed the papers yesterday. It’s been over for a bit. Just over a year now.”  

“A year!” Harry squawks, a bit bug eyed. He’d seen them together this year. He was sure of it. Then again, he’d been away for Liam’s birthday doing a shoot in California and he’d had his own birthday in Rio and before that New Years and Christmas in the Bahamas with his mate Nick. Maybe it _had_ been that long.

  “I know. I’m sorry it’s just. You know I hate failing at anything, yeah? Like. . . we’d not had kids but we pretty much had it all sorted with work and the house and well. That’s not even mine now. Got divvied up in the divorce and it was kind of why I was staying here,” Liam scoots up the bed, sitting up against the headboard.   

Harry shakes his head, flicking his curls back out of his eyes. “Liam,” he says on a long breath. “You should have said, you could have told me.”  

Liam sucks his top lip in under his teeth, his dark eyes are shining and Harry knows this face. Knows how hard Liam tries at _everything_ and how personal he would have taken this break up. Has taken each of the break ups in his life. It took quite the effort on Harry’s part, an unwillingness to let the friend he had in Liam go when they’d ended their relationship to keep a small part of what they had together. It had been strange with them for months after. Liam not even sure he could handle hugging Harry hello or goodbye for a bit after. But they’d worked on it and Harry thought they were close. Well, close enough that something as huge as this would have been something Liam would have come to him about. Would have come to him to talk it through. 

  “I didn’t even like admitting it to myself. Mum and dad don’t even know. They think we’re going through a rough patch which, yeah we were but-“ Liam stops, sliding down again as Harry scoots up the bed, settles himself beside Liam, throwing the duvet over the both.   

“You really are a donut, yeah? Your parents loved you both but they love _you_ , Liam. You’re their son, they’re always going to put you first, yeah?” Harry turns on his side a bit, leans up on his elbow, runs his fingers through Liam's hair. It's soft where he's shaved it on the sides, still long on top though as Liam leans into his touch. 

"Yeah, I know," Liam answers, but there's this heaviness to his words. This weight that Harry knows Liam will hold onto because it's just what he does. Wallows and feels things right to the very heart of him, and this is a big _thing_. 

Liam shuffles over a bit closer to Harry, the fold in the duvet the only thing between their bodies touching. "You know you can stay as long as you want," Harry whispers, lips finding Liam's forehead. "Anything you need, Li." 

Liam turns and he's looking down at the small space between them, hiding his eyes from Harry. He can still make out how wet Liam's lashes have become. The stray lines of tears that have rolled down his cheeks. Liam's hand slides over the duvet, lands on Harry's hip, fingertips scrunching up the material as he nods.

Harry keeps pressing his lips to Liam's face, all the spaces he can reach as he hums soft, nails scratching through Liam's hair. It makes his chest hurt to see Liam upset like this. Makes him wonder what on earth he can offer to help ease Liam's pain, even a little.

"I wish I could make it better for you, you know?" Harry reaches up with his free hand, uses his thumb to brush the tears from the thin skin under Liam's eyes. Liam blinks and tilts his head up, and he's so close and his eyes are so dark and sad and Harry's heart _aches_ for him. 

"This, this is good," Liam answers, licking his lips so they shine all pink, his hand tightening over Harry's hip, shifting the duvet between them so Harry can feel Liam's leg pressed up against his own. Without thinking, Harry wraps his foot over Liam's ankle drawing them closer.

The air's changed between them with that simple move. Something tense now filling the quiet of before. A crackling energy that Harry doesn't exactly know what to do with.

"Yeah?" he breathes out, searching Liam's face for some hint on what that means. If it's just the mere fact Harry's here or. . . or. . . .

Or something else.

Because it's been so long. So long since they shared a space like this. So long since they've held each other this close. So long since Harry's offered himself to anyone for more than just a shag for fun. Nothing's ever been like it was between them. Nothing Harry's had with anyone since has come anywhere near close. Just being here like this, Liam trusting him with all of this is confusing everything in Harry's mind about what he should be doing right now. Offering more than just words of comfort isn't something he should be considering.

"God, Harry," Liam near whimpers as he surges up and he's kissing Harry, only taking him seconds of shock before he's kissing Liam right back. 

It's a bit wet and it's a bit awkward for a moment, teeth clacking and chins bumping from the angle. Then it gets better. Liam rolling right over the top of Harry, pinning him to the bed with his elbows on either side of Harry's head, Harry still cradling Liam's face in his own. Every touch heating him right up as he rubs his thumbs over Liam's cheeks, deepens their kiss with a press to the hinge of his jaw. He can't help but spread his legs, letting Liam fit more firmly between them even with the duvet in the road. He can still feel Liam, this heavy weight above him, hips rocking slow against him and god, it's been too long. It's been too long and it's Liam and he shouldn't - they shouldn't - but Harry can't find it in himself to stop. 

Liam's tongue is insistent in Harry's mouth as he swallows up all the sounds Liam's making. Bites at his plush bottom lip when Liam pulls back, their eyes locking as they breathe for a moment. It's enough for Harry to think about checking in. Liam's eyes are still dark, still sad and pinched around the edges but there's something different there now. Something deeper, pupils blown and large. He licks his lips again and Harry can't think about how this isn't something Liam needs on top of what he's going through because it _feels too good_. 

He drags Liam back in with his hand curled around Liam's neck, kissing him hard once more. It's a little different now. A little easier between them as Liam's moans echo in the room, rising above the sound of Harry's blood rushing in his ears. The blanket slips between them as Liam moves, Liam's chest pressing against Harry's and it's heat and skin on skin and Harry needs _more_. Liam leans up on one hand, the other sliding over Harry's ribs, a slow tip tap over the ladder of thin skin and bone so light it almost tickles. A laugh getting caught in Harry's throat, turning into a moan the moment Liam's fingers pinch at a nipple. Harry breaks the kiss, his head tipping back letting Liam's lips press hot and heated down Harry's neck, mouthing wet and warm over his collarbone. 

Harry kicks at the duvet, getting his leg out so he can wrap it over Liam's thigh, his heel sitting in the dip at the back of Liam's knee. He clutches at Liam's neck, presses his thumb into the muscle there before sliding his palm down over the broad expanse of Liam's back. His muscles twitch and shift under Harry's hand and he's still so bloody _fit_. He's changed so little and so much and he's making Harry hard, deep under the covers. It's all too much and not enough and Liam's just got divorced for fuck sake's? What's Harry doing?

It's like a bucket of ice water thrown over him when he realises how far he's let this go. How far he'd continue to let it go but this is _Liam_ and he doesn't want Liam to hate himself in the morning. He won't be the one to push Liam deeper because Harry wasn't the one to stop them from whatever road this is they've begun to travel down.

"Liam," he says, having to clear his throat as Liam's just started sucking a bruise at the base of his throat. It has Harry clutching at Liam's back, fingertips scrambling for purchase over his shoulderblade. It's not right. It's not. . . but it feels so good and it's _Liam_ and Harry's never gotten over him, really. Not completely. He knows it deep down and it's what's really stopped him from getting close to anyone since. yeah, it was fun in the beginning being free to do what he wanted, whenever he wanted but it was nothing like coming back to someone at home. Someone who knew you better than anyone else. Someone who you could just _be_ with without _being_ on. 

"Liam," he says again, a bit more stern this time, pushing at Liam's shoulders, letting his leg fall back to the bed as he tries to slip out from underneath him. 

Liam makes this sound, something like realisation, maybe, as he rolls off Harry, hides his face in the pillow as Harry lies on his back and tries to get his breathing and his heart under control. One is far easier than the other. He reaches out with his hand, finds Liam's on the bed between them, the duvet a tangled mess between their legs and torso. He tangles their fingers together and squeezes tight once, swallows hard on words he knows he shouldn't say now. It's not the time. It's not going to help anything at all. It takes Liam a minute before he squeezes back, but when he does, Harry can't help but smile.

"I'm not. . . I'm not sorry, Harry." Liam says, more into the pillow than anywhere else. It makes Harry's breath catch and he thought. . . well he didn't think that'd be what Liam would say first.

Harry turns his head to the side just as Liam does the same, one dark brown eye and half a restrained smile on show. "There was a reason I came here. That you were the one I thought of first, have wanted to talk to about everything for so long. But you have this life, yeah? This amazing life that hasn't properly included me for so long and I know this was dumb, even if it felt good," 

Harry snorts, and Liam's grin gets wider, fuller as he shuffles onto his side, brings their joined hands up between them. 

"Our timing's never been quite right, yeah?" Harry says, feeling this sadness as he speaks start to fill his bones. He knows that there's always been a part of him devoted to Liam. A space in his heart that was locked off just in case, even though he never really held out hope. 

Liam takes in this deep breath, shuffles even closer as he lets it out, tugs Harry's hand until Harry is forced to turn on his side. Their foreheads press close and it's so familiar to how they were before it's like the end that Harry initiated was merely a pause. 

"No. . . not back then and maybe not now but it's something I've thought about a lot. And maybe, maybe we can think about it together, later?" Liam says as Harry yawns, his jetlag and travel catching up to him now that his heart rate has slowed.

Harry nods, lost a bit for what to actually answer. It's too much with Liam so close and all that they've just done and all that Liam said before. It's too much to fathom with knowing how naked they both are in this bed and what Liam tastes like on his tongue. It's too much for someone this bloody knackered so he does the only thing he can do right now. 

He reaches over to his bedside drawer, pulls out two pairs of pants and throws one at Liam, wriggling into his own. Liam laughs, but Harry can the rustle of fabric which means he's putting them on. Harry flops back down on the bed as Liam struggles with the duvet, finally getting it out from under them both and shaking it out high so it covers them both. Harry reaches beside him as Liam settles back on the bed, grabbing at Liam's hand and tugging them both over on their sides. He curls his hand in Liam's dragging it up over his heart and breathes out long and hard.

"Forgot you like to be the little spoon," Liam whispers soft, mostly to the nape of Harry's neck. Harry nods, already feeling the tug of slumber pulling him under. 

"Little spoons the best," Harry answers through a yawn, barely noticing how Liam's lips press to his shoulder, out before he can hear a word more.

**Author's Note:**

> [TUMBLR](http://www.slightlytotheleft.tumblr.com) where you can say hi or prompt things etc x


End file.
